


in the eye of a hurricane

by HelmetParty



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Quentin Smith, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lore for David's shirtless skin, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Safe Sane and Consensual, The Entity said fuck work, Top David King, sorry for hamilton references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-12-30 07:25:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18310949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelmetParty/pseuds/HelmetParty
Summary: “Are ya’ sure? We don’t have to do anything if you don’ want.”“Please.”In a spell of peace and quiet that would surely not last, Quentin and David spend some time together.





	in the eye of a hurricane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FictionallyAttractive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionallyAttractive/gifts).



> A gift for the wonderful FictionallyAttractive, who has become one of my favorite writers as of late. Please support them!

David was accustomed to the quiet in between trials, the eye of the hurricane. But even so, he never got used to it. He was a man who disliked silence, but even worse, being stationary. Even back home he clamored for more, be it fights or beer, he was always doing  _ something _ . But here it was different. The Entity’s realm was repugnant and bizzare and, for the ever loving Christ he could not figure out how, somehow boring. Being chased and hunted by a bunch of supernatural psychos was the easy part for him. It was the hours and hours of nothingness outside of that that burned a hole into his soul.

It all sounded like the plot to a failed film.

But, even in a hurricane, light will shine through. And that light came from Quentin.

David was someone who didn't look twice at people. He didn’t care to, unless he was going to fight them. But here? It was just a bunch of kids. Apart from Bill and Ace nobody looked to be above early twenty some. Even moreso, he didn’t care to look twice, or even once if he could help it. 

But Quentin gave him pause.

He had never seen someone look so damn  _ tired _ . The kid looked to be a ghost, pale skin only colored with dark reds and purples under the eyes, thin and hunched figure that looked ready to tumble over at any moment with exhaustion. His voice was brittle and hoarse, although he didn’t seem to speak much. Quentin seemed just as much of an outsider as David felt. 

Overall, he looked miserable and probably felt just as bad, and something about him made David feel instantly protective.

\--

“What are you doing!?”

“Savin’ your ass!”

David grabbed Quentin by the wrist and practically threw him aside as the hatchet from the Huntress whipped directly into his shoulder. She lets out a frustrated howl, so close to getting the already-injured Quentin down for the third time, his death so near she could almost taste it. He staggers as he is thrown, not attempting to run right away. Maybe it was just shock, or pity, but he doesn’t go and instead stares at David with large eyes. “Run!”, David has to scream, ripping the hatchet from his arm with a gush of blood. He comes to his senses and bolts in the other direction, but looks back a final time to see David being chased by the woman. It’s less than a minute or so before he hears his telltale scream.

David ended up dying. He was used to death, but still, he would have rather lived. He wasn’t one for being sentimental, either, but for some reason this world - this hell - made him feel differently. This wasn’t the first time he had given his life to save another for a while, but it was the first time he didn’t feel regretful of it.

Quentin shyly approached him. David could see him walking over to his spot on the outskirts, but pretended he couldn’t. “David,” he says, voice tinier than usual. He seemed embarrassed. “You didn’t have to do that for me. Thank you.” 

Was he upset he couldn’t come back to get him? Was he just being humble?

“‘S no problem,” David goes with. Usually, the gratitude was just implied. Nobody said thank you, because it was common that you would take hits for others sometimes. 

But it felt good to be appreciated. 

Quentin lingered for a little longer in silence, saying nothing and looking at the ground. He walked away after a short time, and David watched until he was out of sight. Something about him felt strange, and David was suddenly filled with the need to both protect  _ and  _ impress him. 

Time passes. Each and every single trial and interaction with Quentin is, in itself, a trial; he was softer, more pleasant, a little more showy. Quentin was an introvert, that much was clear, so the times where he could manage to connect with him we’re important. Important indeed. He tried to gauge what Quentin liked and didn’t. He tried to see what made him smile, even a little bit, and when he could pinpoint that, he did more of it. When Quentin was sitting away from the campfire or out of normal earshot, he spoke louder and talked about things he thought might make him laugh. After a while David got discouraged, almost depressed as he did his best to make it look like he wasn’t staring into the treeline at Quentin who was reading a book he had found in the woods. He seemingly didn’t hear, or even worse yet, didn’t find his extravagant tall tales funny like some of the others had.

“Yeah.” There is a long pause. “So tha’s when I punched him.”

Quentin stifled a laugh.

It made David’s heart flutter and fly right the fuck away. And, in truth, for the first time since he had arrived in this Hell, he felt happiness.

\--

They became closer as more time passed. David was, frankly, exhausted from trying to impress and befriend Quentin, and was surprised when the boy finally put in some effort too. He stopped isolating himself a little bit and instead sat by the campfire more often, his eyes fixated on the others’, an expression of full attention on his face as David told tales from back home. It felt like walking on ice, as if one small move would ruin everything forever, but David never turned his back on a challenge.

He had gotten his attention, but now was the time to do something with it.

\--

“Oh, Christ, David. Please put on a shirt.”

Meg stared at him with squinted eyes and a raised brow, clearly disgusted by his audacious display. David was, however, unashamed. He had little qualms about his body and was entirely in shape, kept so by running from killers and his occasional pushup sessions he had begun to do.

He was almost afraid it wouldn’t work.  _ Almost _ .

His lack of shirt was, with little else to focus on or do outside of trials, quite a bit of an attention hog. He had come out one time from his little grotto of seclusion just outside the campfire with his shirt in his hands, whipping it onto his back.

“Why are you shirtless?”

“‘S hot.” 

It really wasn’t. 

He had begun to do push-ups, as well. He did them only when he  _ knew  _ Quentin was in eyesight. He was lucky that he usually sat on a log that was in eyesight of David’s sleeping area, an area which he could look like he couldn’t tell he was being watched. 

And watch Quentin did.

David watched his expression from the corner of his eyes. The burning in his arms and chest faded to the back of his mind as he focused in on it as much as possible, but he was far away.

He stops when he sees Quentin exit the area and go to the woods, probably to his own area.

He’s unsure of why. Maybe he was just tired, or maybe it was something else.

\--

Quentin couldn’t meet his eye anymore. 

“Ya’ alright, kid?” 

He’s silent for a moment before nodding in response. Quentin’s eyes avert to the ground, darting around, trying to find something else to focus on, anything at all.

David grinned. “You look right red, mate. Sure you're not sick?” His hand goes to grab Quentin's face, forcing them to meet eye to eye. His eyes widened, face got a little redder, body stiff and obviously uncomfortable. The space between them became lava and even though he was nervous himself, David filled that space. Their chests touch and suddenly Quentin feels smaller than a puppy, but just as vulnerable; he felt like he could shatter into a million pieces just by how he looked at him. David was steady in contrast to Quentin's nervous and shaky hands, something that made him feel safe, even though he felt weak.

David moves their lips together, and Quentin falls into it.

\--

“David” a voice calls, a little less shaky than normal, a little more comfortable. In their time together he had seen Quentin truly shed his shell and became his natural self. He was still shy, a little timid and a little scared, but it was almost like he was someone else entirely. He took initiative. He was the one who kissed first, he was the one who planned what they would do when they had free time, as limiting as their options were. He talked more about his life before and opened up a little about the horrible things he had experienced as a child.

Hell, he even slept sometimes.

But there was one thing he didn't initiate. 

Sex.

David was human. He had thoughts and feelings and a dick that got hard at the sight of men. He couldn't control it, really, he has tried, but when your boyfriend sleeps on top of you and starts humping in his sleep...a man gets hungry.

He wakes up after a while and realizes what had happened. 

“Good dreams?”

David grabbed his ass.

“Listen, I-” he's stuttering again. He does that when he's scared, and David realized he needed to back away. He takes his hand off of him and nods, interrupting the other. “Got it,” he says. “Too soon.”

Back home it was easy. He was born to family that hated men who fucked men, surrounded by people who thought the same way. Love was a luxury not given to people like him, so you took what you could get; easy fucks in bar bathrooms and hookups in the dead of night. 

But that was then and this was now, and he didn't want to to fuck this up.

Quentin had never come forward and David wanted to give him space. Maybe he was scared, maybe he wasn't on board with the whole “being gay” thing, if he even was. But it didn't matter; his hand worked all those lonely nights and it would still work now. 

\--

Quentin had gotten a lot bolder lately. He started stealing kisses where they could potentially be seen, his hands got a little more ballsy and he just seemed more touchy in general. At any moment he could his hands were on him, even in innocent touches like the arm or chest. 

It sent fire through David, but still, he didn't push it.

“David.”

David's eyes crack open to the darkness with a small groan. He rubs his eyes, trying to do away with sleep. 

“What? Somethin’ wrong?”

“Come with me.”

He looks up to see Quentin looking down at him, cheeks red, visible even in the darkness and fog. His eyes are less tired but still it's clear he's exhausted. His hands rest in the pockets of his jacket, his eyes darting around to the rest of the campfire and it's sleeping inhabitants. The only person awake was Bill, who was writing something down in his journal, seemingly unaware of the two men.

“Alright. Lead the way.”

Quenin took David's hand into his and led him into the woods. It was dark as usual, yellow and green tinted fog making the area around them almost invisible. However, the further you ventured into the woods, the thinner it seemed, almost as if the majority was being spent on their camp just to make it that much worse.

Quentin stops abruptly, looking around. “This should do.”

David's brow raised, looking down toward the other, confused and tired more than anything. “Wha-”

He is silenced as suddenly a pair of lips smash against his mouth. Quentin's hands hold David's neck, bodies colliding, tongues swirling against each other. 

David is stunned, but he reciprocates. His hands go to Quentin's hips, no lower, holding steadfast under the others’ desperate kiss. He opens his mouth and relishes in Quentin's taste, something he had grown to appreciate and find comfort in. They makeout for a minute, Quentin groaning into their touches, not an inch of space between their bodies as they grope and wander.

Their mouths disconnect and Quentin gasps, breathless and hot, a bead of anxious sweat dripping down his forehead. He looks up to the other with dark eyes, and suddenly David feels weak.

“David,” he coos quietly, pink lips wet with saliva. David begins to feel like a schoolgirl, stiff and unsure of what to do or what the other wants. He didn't want to overstep his boundaries or do something he would regret. Did he bring him out here just to kiss? Did he want  _ more? _ Either way, he feels himself getting hard, his jeans doing little to conceal it.

Quentin doesn't break eye contact as he slowly drops to his knees. His hands roam over his chest and down his legs, one hand lingering on his inner thigh and the other over his growing erection.

It sends a shiver down his spine.

“Jesus, Quen,” he hisses, having to stop himself from grabbing those beautiful locks of brown hair. Quentin only averts his glare so that he could pull down his jeans. Revealed is a pair of black boxer briefs, loose but fitted, tight enough to reveal David's cock in full. His hand goes to palm and rub it through the fabric, and in return he moans.

This was all unexpected, but David would be lying if he said he didn’t want this.

“Quentin,” he says, his gruff voice low and smoky. He was unsure of the words to say or what to do, fearful that he would push things too quickly. This was sudden and he felt almost guilty in a way. Quentin is, however, silent, his hot breath making David’s cock twitch, tongue giving little laps to his cock through the thin fabric. A visible wetness now stains the briefs at the head of his cock, which now leaked pre-cum, swollen and throbbing from Quentin’s ruthless teasing. He was sure, almost positive that he had never had sex, let alone with a man; but he acted with the confidence of someone who had. It was almost if his quiet and demure nature had been an act.

But he knew that not to be true.

Quentin finally pulls his underwear down, David’s cock releasing to full attention. One of Quentin’s hands goes to grab the base, the other still wrapped around his thigh and petting playfully. He licked his rosy lips in anticipation, and took the tip of David’s cock into his mouth. David could no longer help himself, his hands reaching towards Quentin’s head, holding his hair in between his fingers somewhat tightly, biting his bottom lip as his tongue licked the underside of his cock. Quentin jerked his hand up and down the shaft of the cock, his mouth still wrapped around only the tip, basking in David’s taste. It  _ was  _ true, he had never taken cock; he had imagined it for so long, and once David had came along, he dreamed of his. But in truth, he was afraid as well. Would he be good enough? Would David laugh at his body or his inexperience? Not even just that and a million other reasons, he found himself rarely in the mood. He was always too tired, be it from lack of sleep or lack of self confidence. But David had brought this out in him. He gave him the comfort to sleep, the comfort in his body, and the comfort to know that he was never going to be forced to do anything. It was that feeling of safety that ultimately pushed him to do this.

That, and the fact that David was  _ incredibly  _ fucking hot.

Quentin hallowed his cheeks as he had remembered seeing it done in porn. He opened his mouth wider and started to take David as far as he could, stopping only when his gag reflex forced him to. He tried to look up to see him, eyes strained and on the verge of crying not from pain but from strain, trying to see if he liked this. David hissed and groaned as Quentin sucked, his hands occasionally pulling on his ruffled hair, gaining noises from Quentin as well. They sent vibrations into his cock, and paired with the look on his face and the fact that Quentin looked  _ so damn good _ on his knees, he felt himself growing closer faster than normally. He pulls Quentin’s head back and with a pop his mouth is forced off from his cock. Quentin looks up, eyes big and expression contorted into that of worry. Had he done something wrong?

“Gettin’ close,” he huffs, one of his hands running through the locks of Quentin’s hair, softly petting. 

Quentin smiles and looks up, closing his eyes, relishing in David’s touch.

“How far do you want to take this?”

Being confident without words was easy, it was saying them that took  _ real  _ guts. Quentin had suddenly found himself heated, embarrassed to say and entirely red in the face. His entire confident shell had shattered like paper. “I,” he hesitates, rather wishing that David would just read his mind and take it from there. He didn’t want to seem like an incapable or prudish idiot, but he was sure that’s probably what it looked like.

“I want you to fuck me.” 

It took a moment but he finally forced himself to say it. He looked up to David, who had been waiting patiently for his answer, in a manner that was odd and strange but not around Quentin. He was always patient and soft while rude and downright violent to everyone else. 

It was special that David was so gentle with him, but he hoped that was about to change.

“Are ya’ sure? We don’t have to do anything if you don’ want.”

“Please.”

David looked down at him, almost as if he was going to object, but the quiet plead for more made him change his mind. David takes off his jacket and shirt before throwing them on the ground which was uncharacteristically bare. They were out far enough that nature was sparse, along with the trees and fog, almost as if it was rendering into nothing. He wasn’t even entirely sure if the ground was dirt. As he lays his clothes on the ground, he goes to lay on them. The soil is cold but it doesn’t bother him, he was used to it from the campfire, as even its warmth and glow did little to protect you.

He guides Quentin on top of him, able to slide the others’ pants and underwear down to his ankles as he climbed on top. Quentin’s shirt covers David’s view of his cock, and as such he goes to remove it. Quentin practically whips his jacket to the side, however allowing David to slide his shirt off. He hadn’t seen Quentin naked or even shirtless before; he was average build, maybe a little scrawny in some ways, definitely smaller than David himself. He had no visible scars or markings, his chest pale and pink around his nipples, the epitome of youth despite his weary aura. His cock was also average, maybe a bit on the smaller side, but still, David had no qualms. In his eyes, Quentin was perfect.

“God,” he pauses, running his hands down Quentin’s chest and sides. “Yer fuckin’ beautiful.” 

Quentin, whose face was already flushed, deepened. One of David’s hands goes to hold his ass, cheek tightly squeezed in his hand, the other to Quentin’s hole. Gently he teased and prodded at it, observing his facial expressions for discomfort.

“Please,” he pleads, looking to the other with puppy eyes, an image that sent David’s heart over the moon. He couldn’t play around it anymore, and slowly he slips his index finger inside of him.

Quentin gasps, his mouth hanging open, eyes closed. David tried to be as tender as possible as he slid it in and out, curling it, trying to get him used to the idea. He listened closely for signs that he disliked it, but only found him wanting more. “Please, fuck me already,” Quentin whines. “I’m ready, I promise-”

David slips another finger inside of him. “Not yet you aren’t.” He thrusts his fingers in and out, listening to him as he wriggles and sobs, unsatisfied with the little amount he had gotten thus far. He pounds in and out with them, and it's only when Quentin suddenly gasps does he know he hit that spot. 

“Gotcha.”

He jabs in and out against it, with each and every single thrust he assaulted Quentin’s prostate, and in return he trembled and howled. He keeps up the onslaught for only a few moments before taking his fingers from Quentin’s abused hole.

“D-don’t stop, please!”

 There was a moment of nothing before he felt something new against his ass. David repositioned the other, spreading his legs a little more, moving him down a bit. Quentin waited anxiously as he resituated them, his cold cock edging against his ass, a shiver sent down his spine at both the temperature and the thought of what was to come.

Slowly the tip of David’s wet cock enters his hole. A soft gasp escapes Quentin’s lips as he jerks his hips down, trying desperately to be filled, unsated by the way David was treating him like he was going to break. He wanted this more than anything in the world. 

“David” he whimpers, his hands using David’s chest for support as he tried to thrust up and down, held back by his strong hands. “Please, faster, please-”

“Slow down there... You’ll hurt yerself.”

Quentin groaned in rebuttal, head tilted up towards the sky, hips desperately grinding down. “God, please David, please fuck me! I promise I can take it, please-”

Seeing him so hungry, urgently trying to fuck himself on David’s cock...it sent shivers throughout his body and made his cock twitch with hunger himself. He had spent all this time trying to be gentle, assuming that he  _ wouldn’t  _ be able to handle it, but the entire time Quentin had proven he could and wanted more.

And it was wrong to deny such a handsome man what he wants.

David gave up on restraint and took his hands from Quentin’s ass. Instead, his hands go to his thighs, holding tightly but not stopping the other from going as fast as he wanted to. Almost instantly Quentin’s hips slam down, taking the entirety of his length inside of him, his body shaking from the sudden and full intrusion. “Jesus!” David growls, having to bite his bottom lip to stifle further noises from escaping. He hadn’t expected  _ that _ , and it seems like Quentin found he was a bit overzealous, as well.

“ _ Fuck _ !”

“Shite, did you hurt yourself?”

“N-no, I just, ah,” he found it hard to speak. Everything was becoming a blur. His brain felt more foggy than the woods around him, and suddenly everything blends together into just feeling. Pleasure, pain, fear, embarrassment, bliss; it’s a combination of a million different things and it no longer has edges or definable beginnings or ends. It just  _ is _ . The burning in his rear is most prominent and damn it feels  _ good _ , he can feel David’s thick cock pound in and out, his own cock desperately throbbing and wet with precum. He wanted this to last forever, in a way.

“So good,” he coos, jerking off Quentin’s dripping cock as best he could as he relentlessly fucked himself down on David’s groin. He wasn’t even entirely sure the kid could hear with how into it he had become. He was working up a sweat, even with the cold; his body shined with it, his hair almost covering his eyes entirely as he worked himself.

David could fix that. He grabs Quentin’s back and stops him, pulling him down to lay on top of him. Quentin’s face meets his, and slowly David lays a kiss on the others’ mouth. He starts to thrust his hips, working to fuck him instead of the other way around, and instantly Quentin lets out a stifled moan of pleasure. 

They explore each others mouths, noises of pleasure slipping away from both of their lips; tongues tied, bodies joined. David’s heart pounded in his chest as they touched each other, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the empty woods. He had never felt this way about anyone or anything in his life. He was terrified, but when he felt Quentin’s chest beating just as fast, he felt safe. 

“Oh God, oh God,” Quentin repeated, breaking their mouths away, unable to keep himself steady anymore. His head fell into David’s chest, his mouth open with breathy moans, his hips grinding down against the skin beneath him. 

He was close. David could tell.

David takes his hips into his hands and starts to thrust as hard as he can. He feels the other shake and vibrate beneath him, his hole tightening under David’s ruthless thrusts, and soon enough he can’t hold back, spilling himself inside of him. He goes still as he rides out his orgasm, but Quentin didn’t; he grinded down as much as he could, whining as he spent himself onto their chests, and in a final moment, they both hold on for the ride.

They’re silent for a while. Both simply exist, their breaths heavy and hot, exhaustion running through their bodies. 

“You okay, love?”

Quentin looks up to the other, his lips curling into a smile. He lays a soft kiss on his mouth in response.

David wasn’t used to the quiet in between trials; the eye of the hurricane. But with Quentin by his side, he could overcome any challenge, even if that challenge was himself. 


End file.
